Australia X Reader- Christmas Spirits
by Dustail
Summary: *This is a SELF-INSERT*


"Hey, thanks for. Inviting me," you told Arthur, "I hardly get invited to these things."  
"No problem, love." The Englishman replied, "Just enjoy the party and have a happy holiday."  
You chuckled. "Thanks, I will."  
The thick-browed Brit gave you a charming smile before heading towards the snack table, no doubt off to tell a certain American to quit stuffing his face.  
You took another sip of your drink as you watched the merry-making going on around you. Lounging out on the couch were the Italian twins, Feliciano nearly crying as Lovino ranted at him all the reasons he should leave his big, burly German hubby. Behind the brothers lurked Antonio, Francis, and Gilbert, commonly known as the Bad Touch Trio. The Frenchman was making a face that could only be described as 'planning' while Antonio was laughing at Gilbert pretending to be hurt by Lovino's depiction of his little brother. On the other side of the massive living space were Arthur's brothers, embarrassing him by standing on the table and strip-teasing.  
"Take it off!" Somebody screamed amongst the crowd that had gathered below the Scot, Welshman, and Irishman.  
You were tempted to go join the catcalling group, but, as you took a step through the doorway, you bumped into another, taller figure, knocking you to the ground.  
"By crickey!" The man you crashed into exclaimed, "I'm sorry, didn't even see you!"  
You took the callused hand that was offered to you, and he lifted you to your feet with ease. You were immediately face-to-face with a pair of eyebrows that really needed to be introduced to a pair of tweezers.  
"Arthur?" You murmured, still dazed from your fall. Then you took in the rest of his face.  
Below his bushy eyebrows were a pair of emerald eyes. Across his nose, a Band-Aid had been slapped on messily, and you could still see the thin, jagged edge of a scar. The man's chocolate hair had been messily combed back, apart from two strands that absolutely refused to stay down.  
"Are you alright, sheila?" The man asked in the most stereotypical Australian accent you had ever heard, "You seem kind of out of it."  
"Yeah, I'm fine...you're Brett, right? Arthur's...relative?" You said, recognizing him from the few times you had taken a visit to London to visit Arthur and his crazy brothers.  
Brett gave you a lopsided grin when you remembered his name. "Yeah, that's my name. You're _, one of the pom's friends."  
Before you could verify this fact, and ask what a 'pom' was, Alfred interrupted with an annoyingly loud laugh. "Hey, yo!" He called as he made his way from the snack table, "Looks like you've been caught by the Spirit of Christmas!"  
"Huh?" You said, confused, 'What do you mean?"  
Brett coughed politely and pointed above your heads.  
You looked up and blushed crimson.  
Hanging from the doorway was a cluster of mistletoe; its white berries glistening in the Christmas lights.  
A few other people had gathered around the two of you, still staring at the poisonous plant.  
"Well,' Arthur sighed impatiently, "Kiss her already."  
Brett was blushing like a madman as he cupped your face in his rough hands. Despite his rugged looks, he was surpassingly gentle. "You don't mind, do you?" He chattered nervously, "I mean, we just met, officially anyway. I don't want to make things awkw-"  
"Brett,"  
"Yes?"  
"You're already making things awkward."  
He gave you another heart-wrenching lopsided smile. "Sorry, mate." He leaned in slowly. His lips brushed yours softly.  
You rolled your eyes and mashed your lips against the startled Australian's.  
He was shocked for a moment, but soon enough kissed you back with as much, if not more, passion as you were. His hands slid down your neck and pressed the small of your back so that you were pressed tightly against each other.  
As the kiss deepened, you received some wolf-whistles and catcalls from the growing crowd.  
Brett licked your bottom lick, asking for entrance, which you gladly allowed him. Not a heartbeat after you parted your lips, the Aussie slid his tongue in and explored your caverns. He tasted foreign to you, a mix of something sweet and bitter. His tongue swept over the roof of your mouth, making you shiver in pleasure.  
Too soon for liking, you had to break apart.  
"Damn air," Brett cursed as he panted.  
You giggled and gave him another quick peck on the cheek. 'Don't worry, I have a feeling that we'll be having another session soon enough.' you whispered before intertwining your fingers with his.


End file.
